


The Lost Prince

by kuebikos



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, but byleth helps him, dimitri is sad emo and confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-29 16:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuebikos/pseuds/kuebikos
Summary: “And that means you must learn to forgive yourself too, Dimitri.”Everyone else was close to giving up on the soon king-to-be, but not her.-A different but similar take on the scene where Byleth rescues Dimitri from his feral self.





	The Lost Prince

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written in a while but a dimileth enthusiast i decided to contribute
> 
> also rodrigue is a good man he deserves better sob

“_Pity. You could not even save Rodrigue. How are you supposed to avenge us if you are so weak?_”

“_Rodrigue was strong. Perhaps, if he were still alive, he would be the one who will take her head._”

The voices were back. And especially tonight, they were the loudest they’ve ever been.

“Do not worry. I will make sure that soon enough I bring her head to you. Mother...father...Glenn...please wait just a bit longer.”

“_Nonsense! Stop making such foolish promises. We have waited long enough._”

“_This is ridiculous. You cannot even finish a simple task. You are no king. Are you really my son?_”

Somehow, those last words broke him. They were his father’s - the previous king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus - the one who meant the most to Dimitri. The one that Dimitri held the fondest memories of.

But he was gone. Lambert disappeared from this world nine years ago.

His voice dominated the others.

“Shut up. Shut up! _Shut up!_”

\---

For hours, despite her muscles aching from the Battle at Gronder just a mere 6 hours ago, Byleth sat at her desk, strategically planning how and when they were to march to their next goal. She finally decided to call it a day, postponing her brainstorming session for the next morning, planning to share her tactics with Gilbert and Rodrigue.

She shook her head.

Not Rodrigue.

He...he wasn’t here anymore. She remembers looking over at Dimitri on the ground, about to die in that girl’s hand, and yet, though Dimitri gave up, the blue-haired man threw himself in front of the crowned prince. He sacrificed himself, and once Byleth caught sight of the dagger plunging into the man’s body, she rightfully struck the child down with a swift slash of the Sword of the Creator.

Rodrigue slumped to the ground shortly after the girl was slain. She could still perfectly picture the same exact picture of the man’s blood endlessly pouring from the dagger wound. From that exact moment, she knew it was too late. Even if Mercedes were to come at that instant, healing his wound with her white magic, he had lost too much blood for him to properly recover. Byleth looked down as his azure, pleading eyes, understanding his request, and rightfully left the blond and blue alone.

As they all marched back to Garreg Mach, everyone remained silent. The air absolutely stunk of despair. With Rodrigue gone, they were all very aware of the fact that this was going to shift plans significantly, as what little support they had due to Rodrigue’s position was going to soon vanish. It took a toll on Dimitri’s army, both mentally and physically.

Byleth sighed as she leaned back into her wooden oak chair. She especially worried for Felix and Dimitri, running her hand through the mint green locks of her hair. After all, though Felix initially shunned his father for his death, it was clearly visible to her that he wasn’t handling the situation too well. Byleth especially noticed how he would curse under his breath with what she assumed was a frown en route to the monastery, and once he isolated himself in his quarters upon their return, it confirmed her suspicions. After all, actions speak louder than words.

Dimitri, on the other hand, felt like a completely new person - but perhaps not in a good way. He was quiet. He refused to utter a word when anyone tried to converse with him - even _Dedue_ \- hanging his head down low, the dark circles painted under his eyes becoming blacker by the second.

Byleth felt the guilt of not being able to save Rodrigue building up in her chest. And it wasn’t only that, but the fact that she couldn’t console Dimitri and Felix right after. And it wasn’t only that, but also the anxiety of anticipating the unknown outcomes of the war in the next couple months.

It was all too much to mentally bear at once, and so Byleth tossed her cloak around her shoulders, stepping out of her room for a bit to take a brief evening stroll.

\--

Nights were chilly in Garreg Mach. The midnight air nipped at her porcelain skin, quickly coloring the tip of her pointed nose and ears the shade of red. Byleth was used to this, recalling her days as a mercenary, giving her a brief sense of nostalgia as she recalled her father lending her his thick fur coat whenever he’d notice her shivering.

She smiled at the memory. Byleth missed her father, but now she only ever felt happiness when she’d think of him.

The midnight air was suffocating. She remembered five years ago, when everyone didn’t have to worry about the sake of their lives and war, she’d take walks underneath the stars like now. The night was beautiful, quiet, and vast. Back then, the air let her clear the thoughts in her mind. It was refreshing in a sense. Now, it was only plagued with war and despair.

Byleth continued her stroll, humming a song she’d heard from somewhere but couldn’t exactly pinpoint the original source. She gripped the sides of her coat firmly around her body, noticing the wind beginning to pick up as the clouds filled the night sky. Rain was about to fall. Byleth was about to head back inside her quarters until she heard a familiar voice echoing throughout the monastery.

Curious, Byleth made her way to its origins. It seemed to come from the lawn in front of the three houses’ classrooms. She stopped in her tracks once she saw the leader of the blue lions’ class, hanging his head down low, telling the empty air around him to shut up.

Byleth’s heart dropped. It hurt her so much to see him like this. Five years ago, she remembered the princely mask Dimitri stuck on in order to conceal his supposed dark side. She’d heard of that feral side of Dimitri especially from Felix and a bit of Dedue, and she was skeptical about it a bit at first, but once they arrived at Remire Village five years ago, it was visibly obvious.

And she hated herself. Hated herself for being so reckless to protect Rhea only to be missing for the next five years. Hated herself for not being able to use the Divine Pulse to go back in time to prevent this war from happening, failing to save Ashe after he was strucken by a dark mage, failing to notice Edelgard and Hubert’s schemes until it was too late to do so.

Hating that she failed to save Dimitri

She literally had the power of the progenitor god and yet she could do nothing about it. But what’s happened has happened, and she had to focus on the present - not just for her previous dear students, but also for the entirety of Fodlan.

Byleth carefully strode her feet over to the prince, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice, and so she spoke.

“Dimitri?”

He flinched, then turned his head to face her, his single eye widening. The blond blinked a few for a second, his surprised expression quickly pasted over with an irritated one. He slapped Byleth’s hand away with his own gloved one, her slightly flinching at the pain despite his hand being covered. Dimitri had inhumane strength, after all.

“Leave. Do not worry if I am absent in the morning.” Dimitri spat, positioning his body away from Byleth, moving his feet and beginning to walk away from the mint-haired girl. His face retained the same bothered expression, while hers shifted from a concerned to one a mixture of confusion and anger.

She gripped his wrist, stopping his leave. Byleth dared to look into his eye, not hesitating to question his antics despite his mental state. “Just where do you think you’re going this late?”

Like earlier, Dimitri shoved her grip off his wrist with ease. “Enbarr.” He spat. He was irritated and she knew it, but she didn’t let it interfere with her determination to stop him from leaving. He continued. “I need to bring her head to all of them. I need to appease those who died. They will not be happy unless I can prove to _them_ that she is dead.”

Byleth stared at the back of his head. He didn’t bother to face her, but yet, he stopped. She softened her tone. “You…do not have to bring Ed-_her_ head.” She quietly thanked herself for being able to catch her words. “The voices…they are not real. Understand that, Dimitri.”

Byleth was not the best with words. She only ever began to understand the concept of emotions after she became a professor at the academy. And even now, though she managed to learn how to laugh and cry when the situation was right, there were still instances in where she didn’t know how to react – like now.

Dimitri spun around, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked like a confused child, Byleth unaware if she said something wrong.

“They _are _real!” Byleth jumped at Dimitri’s sudden outburst. “No…no. You wouldn’t understand. You have not been through the same trauma I have.” He turned around to face her, dead in the eye, her expression stoic and unwavering. “Back when Jeralt was alive, you still had him. You had someone to rely on. Whereas, I, after that…incident, I had no one. Yes, Gilbert and Rodrigue were there, but I was treated as a prince rather than a son. I had no childhood. It was stripped away from me. And since then, these voices – they’ve haunted me. Telling me to kill, telling me that I was useless unless I kill.”

The pain from earlier in her chest returned. She understood. She understood Dimitri so much. The voices, the loneliness – Byleth felt the exact same pain, regret, and revenge once Jeralt fell.

It was all too relatable. And knowing Dimitri had to feel those exact disgusting emotions for nine straight years made her eyes well with tears.

He didn’t deserve this. Deep down, under this dark side of him he’d concealed ever since the Tragedy of Duscur, he was a good person.

Byleth bit the inside of her lip in an effort to prevent her tears from falling, failing as one slid down her cheek. “I…I understand, Dimitri.”

He scoffed, unwavering at her words. “Nonsense.”

She still continued, shifting her eyes to one of the monastery cats nuzzling against her calf. “When my father died, I felt the same as you did. I felt the same regret, not being able to save him - even after being gifted the ability to turn back time by Sothis - and I cursed myself for that. I have the power of the goddess. And yet I couldn’t even stop Jeralt’s death, Ashe’s, and everyone else who lost their lives in this retched war.” She took a deep breath, struggling to keep herself composed. “Anyways…soon after my father’s death, the voices came. Telling me to kill anyone that stopped my path for revenge; that I was worthless and such. But, over time…those voices; they disappeared.”

Byleth lifted her chin, her mint eyes soon meeting with Dimitri’s azure one, his gaze electrifying and intimidating.

Those green eyes. Those damned green eyes. What were once a lavender, but retained and conveyed the same feelings of hope and determination she held for the blonde. Though her iconic stoic expression remained plastered on her face, Dimitri was able to see through Byleth.

Everyone else was close to giving up on the soon king-to-be, but not her.

The blonde chuckled hopelessly whilst smirking sarcastically. He gazed upon the night sky, the raindrops of a light drizzle landing upon his cheeks.

“You seem to hold all the answers, professor. Then, do tell. How did you keep from losing yourself? Even if you desired revenge. Even with those voices pleading for appeasement so that they shall rest in peace.”

“I learned to forgive myself.” There was no hesitation in her voice.  
No response. Byleth placed her hand along Dimitri’s armored shoulder, it seeming so tiny compared to the prince’s giant body.

She looked up at him. He was surprised to see how much he towered over her now compared to when Dimitri was simply a student – the humble Blue Lions’ leader. The prince had surely grown now, but the person she remembered from before was hidden deep under the mask he now showed, feral and thirsting for blood.

Those five years, Dimitri changed. He lost himself. She wasn’t able to be there – to rescue him from himself, to stop him from giving in to the demons inside his head. But now, she was here with him, and she was going to save the lost prince.

“And that means you must learn to forgive yourself too, Dimitri.”

He looked down at her, his eye no longer holding emotions of rage and bloodthirst. Instead, it was filled with confusion and sadness.

His voice was soft, hardly audible. “Forgiveness…is that even possible for me? Who hands are soaked with the blood of not just enemy soldiers, but innocent men, but women and children? Where nine years ago, I-“

She cut him off, her arms quickly wrapping around his large body. Byleth didn’t want to hear the mention of that day and those names of those he couldn’t save. It would only ruin him more, and the green refused to lose the prince once again.

Despite his flinch at her touch, he did not bother to largen the distance between them. He pathetically stood there with his arms drooped as his side, questioning her action.

“Professor? Wha-”

“Yes Dimitri.” She cut him off once again. “It is possible. That day was not your fault. The voices are wrong, telling you that bloodshed is the only solution. That you are worthless. You are worth so much, my friend. They fail to realize the change and happiness your presence have brought in all of our lives. Especially…mine.”

If not for the cold breeze, she would not have a valid excuse for the red tinge in her cheeks. Byleth was surely flustered at her last statement, realizing how…odd it sounded to have said that, but she truly meant what she had expressed.

Five years ago, being newly appointed as a professor was rather difficult. It was stressful, along with her monthly class duties, but Dimitri was always there for her. From the simple things, such as assisting her with grading and running duties she couldn’t quite tend to due to time constraints, to the larger things – planning their strategies for their following battles – developed a bond between them that was unbreakable. Though she loved the remainder of her students, Dimitri was special to her. And since he was always there for her, it was now Byleth’s turn to be there for the prince.

Warm tears began to fell as the drizzle quickly began to pour. But they were not Byleth’s.

“It’s okay. It’s okay Dimi.” She tightened her arms, her grip firm, but not suffocating.

The air around them was so, so cold.

But her touch felt so, so warm.

Despite the pouring rain, the prince returned her embrace, burying his tear-streaked face into the top of her head, breath quivering.

“Thank you. Thank you so much Byleth.”

She tilted her head upwards to face him.

“I’ll always be by your side. Remember that. And we will make it through this, together.”

\---

For the first night in nine years, Dimitri was finally able to sleep peacefully.


End file.
